Bitch and moan
When I was in college, there was this radio show on Friday nights called Bitch and Moan. It wasn't the college station or anything, just a random FM station, and for two hours they'd take calls from people who wanted advice about stuff. I LOVED that show. It was on early enough (8-10) that you could listen to it and then go out and do whatever else, so my friend Jill and I would go get crappy, yummy food and then drive around and listen and eat and talk back to the radio. (You know, like how Meg Ryan does in Sleepless in Seattle? When she's driving around listening to Dr. Marcia Fieldstone and she's like, "Ugh! That's terrible advice! DON'T LISTEN TO HER, JONAH!" Like that.)
Anyway, that's pretty much why I haven't blogged in like forever. Not because I'm driving around listening to talk radio (I wish) but because every time I go to post I want to bitch and moan, and it's annoying to me, so I'm sure it's annoying to everyone else, too. It's all work drama and, I mean, it is all fine, I am just cranky about it.
These are some of the things I've done instead:
* Eaten dinner in my bed. I've done it like three times, which is crazy because I never, ever eat in bed. It feels sort of indulgent, I think that's why.
* Started watching Season 2 of The Hills here.
* Gone to Target like three times to buy totally random things, like a blue glittery ball that lights up when you bounce it and a package of 100 water balloons.
* Went to the Sex and the City movie, obsessed about the woman who brought her poor, sweet 13-year-old son (TO THE LATE SHOWING, no less) and then read all the comments about it on Television Without Pity.
* Took my friend's daughter out for ice cream, which led to the following exchange on the way home:
Her: I have to go to the bathroom.
Me: OK, we are, like, two minutes away. Can you hold it?
Her: No. I don't know.
Me: We're almost there. Listen to me. I am so dead serious. DO NOT pee in my car. OK?
Her (giggles, and then mimics me in a sing-song voice): I am so dead serious.
Me: I AM so dead serious. NO PEEING IN THE CAR.
Her: Too late, I already did.
Me: That's not funny.
Her: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Me: If you pee in my car, I will make you go home with that guy in the black car over there. Do you see him? He's picking his nose right now.
Me: Yeah. He's a grown-up. PICKING HIS NOSE. And I will make you go with him instead if you pee in my car.
Her: No, you won't. (Pause.) Ha ha, I peed again.
Me: Oh, you're soooo funny. Soooo hilarious.
Her: Ha ha ha ha ha. (Makes a whoosh sound.) I just peed AGAIN! Ha ha ha ha ha.
Thankfully, no actual peeing occurred in the backseat of my car. I don't think.